"International Mr. Leather and the Conflict of Exclusivity Within the LGBT Community"

This past weekend I attended International Mr. Leather, one of the biggest leather and fetish events in the world, held every year in downtown Chicago. I was in attendance both as a member of the media and as curious spectator. IML had granted me media passes for Full Disclosure, the sex-positive podcast I host, meaning I was granted a lot "behind the scenes" access to events.

If you've never been to IML, it's a four-day long event that features kink-friendly parties and social gatherings, culminating in a beauty pageant-esque competition of leather title holders from across the world to be International Mr. Leather.

Much like the leather community in general, IML is overwhelmingly represented by gay males. While leather fetishes are by no means exclusive to gay men, the amount of women I encountered at the event could more or less be counted on two hands, as compared to the thousands of men I saw.

But the more time that I spent at the event, the more I had to question whether or not the ratio of men to women I saw was truly representative of those within the leather community, or whether or not there was some sort of institutionalized segregation of women.

The majority of the events at IML were headquartered at the Marriot's downtown Chicago location. Security was positioned at every entrance to the hotel along with signs that warned any passerby that the hotel was closed for a private event. As many of us stepped outside during the weekend to use our cellphones, at no point did I ever see security stop a man, be he dressed in a leather harness, t-shirt or peacoat.

But I did very clearly see security stop a woman, admonishing her that this was a private adult event taking place.

"Yeah, I know. That's exactly what I'm here for," she replied.

Most of the debauchery doesn't take place at the IML-sponsored events, but rather in the private hotel rooms of guests at the Marriot. While some of the parties I was invited to were private, closed-door events, others literally had an open door policy, allowing people to wander in and out of the room freely.

I was with my female friend at the time when we were invited to one such party on the 46th floor (the top floor) in a massive suite. Upon entering we found encompassed in near complete darkness, illuminated only by the glow of the city night's lights which the room overlooked. It was also exceptionally humid -- I'd estimate there were about 150 bodies crammed into the suite, doing pretty much everything your imagination will let you.

But despite the relative anonymity that darkness afforded, it only took five minutes before my friend was asked to leave.

"You can't be here. You're a woman," she was told.

My friend is a naturally shy and reserved person who's recently expressed an interest in the kink and BDSM community. While IML seemed like an opportune time to explore these interests, she was nervous about doing so -- intimidation, internal struggle and fear of rejection are frequent barriers when it comes to people openly exploring their own sexuality.

I stepped in, approaching the man who was kicking her out. It was unclear whether this man was the actual tenant of the suite or one of the hundred-plus strangers who had entered into the room and felt threatened by the presence of a woman.